Authors: Janelle Taylor
War Eagle’s right leg was between her thighs. His loins ached with eagerness to possess her, and his heart urged him to do so. At that point, his mind was too clouded by her and his cravings to think clearly. All he wanted at that moment was to make her his completely.
With Caroline, it was the same. Her wits were dazed by him and fierce desire. Awesome pleasure washed over her and a ravenous and unfamiliar hunger chewed at her. Never once did she think, should she, could she, surrender totally to him. It was as if the ability to reason with clarity and caution had been ripped from her brain, leaving her vulnerable and susceptible to his enchanting summons to yield.
Yet, as they kissed and caressed, a wise and kind spirit was watching over them, one who knew this was not the time and place for such a special union, a bonding experience on the highest level…
A large buck bounded across a shallow section of the river, bolted up the bank, and halted only a few feet from them. It shook its head with a ten-point rack and snorted loudly before it dashed away across the terrain.
The noise the animal created startled War Eagle and Caroline, who jerked apart and sat up in haste. Both gaped at the majestic creature as it stared at them for a few moments before its swift departure. Then, they turned to face each other. He looked dismayed and Caroline blushed.
War Eagle spoke first, his voice husky. “We go. Danger here.”
Caroline guessed what he meant by those words—the peril of runaway passions—and nodded agreement.
“Cantesica,
Wanbli,” she apologized as Cloud Chaser had taught her to do when she made a mistake.
War Eagle eyed her worried, pleading expression and it tugged at his heart and conscience, his sense of great honor and courage. He refused to allow her to take the blame for
his reckless actions. Although it was her big magic that had evoked them and enthralled him for a time, he was not angered by her deed. He was the man, the warrior, the captor, the one who should have been in charge of the situation and either prevented it or halted it sooner. If the Great Spirit had not sent the forest warrior to warn him to awaken from his forbidden dream quest, he would have claimed her as his own. Too, during his rash distraction, another enemy could have attacked and slain them as they mated in wild and wonderful abandonment. The woman who had sneaked into his heart and thoughts and stolen them with ease returned him to reality when she spoke in a quavering voice.
“I’m ready to ride. Shall we go now?” she implored, anxious to flee his indiscernible silence and probing stare.
“No be sorry. We weak; hunger strong. No more kiss, touch. Yes?”
Whether his “Yes?” asked if she concurred with his opinion of their breach—relapse—of proper conduct in their roles of captor/captive and his assertion of their character flaws, or it was meant to coax her compliance to his softly spoken commands, she nodded and said,
“Han.”
War Eagle took a deep breath and held it for a while to slow his racing heart. After he released it, he said, “We go.”
They gathered their things, repacked and loaded them, and mounted. This time, Caroline grasped the horse’s mane and swung up onto its back before the warrior could assist her. As she situated herself and positioned her dress, she realized he had a broad grin and an amused gaze.
“Kawa Cante ride good. Cloud Chaser, Dawn, be happy you return. We go,” he repeated, and leapt upon his Appaloosa’s back. Then he headed homeward to hand the sunny flower of his troubled heart over to his brother again.
Caroline followed, staring at his back as he sat tall and straight on the animal as the proud and honorable man that she knew him to be by now. She realized, and was certain he
was aware, he had made another slip of the tongue, which probably had provoked his ensuing frown and rush. She was astounded and elated that he had not punished or berated her, and had not appeared enraged or insulted by their show of desire for each other. Having been told at Fort Pierre that Indians were very “superstitious,” she was glad he had not seemed to believe she was evil or had cast a wicked spell on him to lead him down a dark path of shame and defeat and enthrallment.
Caroline admitted there was a great deal she did not know and many other things she could not explain about the Indians, but she was learning more every day; and most of those discoveries were contradictory to what she had been told and had overheard. In her opinion, the man riding just ahead of her was not a savage or a churl. He was a man of immense integrity, courage, compassion, and intelligence. Except for his cousin, he was close and intensely loyal to his family, people, and lands. He lived his religion every day, beginning with prayer. He was more than worthy of his ranks as the chief’s son, a Sacred Bow Carrier, and a small-band leader. He was a warrior of great prowess, a superior figher and protector. He was handsome and virile, strong and gentle. He was the epitome of what she wanted, needed, and admired in a man. She could not deny that she desired him, yet, she could not, must not again, forget he was beyond her reach, as painful as that reality was, and no matter that he might also feel the same way about her, however reluctant he was to admit that fact. Have him, she could not. Except in her dreams…
War Eagle was thinking and feeling much the same as Caroline, whom he could not seem to force from his heart and thoughts, hard as he tried. She embodied everything he wanted, needed, and desired in a female. She was beautiful and alluring, and she possessed countless good traits. She had an appealing mixture of strength and gentleness. He enjoyed being with her, talking with her, watching her, hearing
her, smelling her, tasting her. She made every part of him come alive with excitement and joy. He could not deny he loved and desired her.
But she was white; he, Red Shield, the future chief if death stalked and overtook Wind Dancer. Even if Caroline dressed, spoke, and lived as an Oglala, the colors of her sunny hair, sky eyes, and pale skin would shout that truth to everyone who looked upon her. She was viewed as one of the enemy, a captive, a woman out of his reach; those facts angered and frustrated him as a man who had never feared or hesitated to challenge even seemingly impossible odds and risks in battles, raids, or in contests with fellow warriors.
He must not allow either of them to show such bittersweet weaknesses before his people, especially before Two Feathers, who might seek to shame him to the point of dissension or lethal conflict. The motive for that sudden spitefulness, he did not know. Hard as it would be, he must ignore and evade her. From this sun forth, he vowed, she could come to him only in his dreams…
Upon their return to camp and without saying a word or even glancing at each other, a cautious War Eagle left an equally discreet Caroline at Cloud Chaser’s tepee with Dawn. Both knew they were being observed by people who were curious about her departure and surprising return with him.
Afterward, he handed the three horses’ tethers to a young brave who had hurried forward to take the animals for tending, a way of showing honor to their chief’s son and practicing the Virtue of Generosity for when the youth became a full-fledged warrior. Without delay, War Eagle went to meet with his father, brothers, and grandfather.
After the five men gathered in Rising Bear’s tepee and Winona and Hanmani gave them privacy, War Eagle revealed the stirring events that happened during his absence and his motive for leaving camp with the white female, only
omitting his private feelings for her. The shaman nodded in accord when he related the elderly man’s advice before his departure. “After the Fire Arrow struck down the tree and blocked my path, I felt it was a sign to turn back as Grandfather told me to look for when I spoke with him before leaving with her.”
“To return was wise, my grandson. You have done well to see and obey His will,” Nahemana praised him. “The Great Spirit has not shown me the reason, but my heart and mind tell me He has placed her among us for good purpose. The Great One has spoken; she is to remain with us.”
A disturbed Rising Bear asked, “Why does Two Feathers crave her so fiercely when he hates whites? Why does he seek to shame you and to injure Cloud Chaser? After my second son proved himself to us during the last hot season, a truce was made between them. Why has he broken it?”
War Eagle shook his head and responded, “I do not know, Father, but his hatred for Cloud Chaser has returned, if such bad feelings ever left his heart and head. Perhaps he insults me and craves the captive in an attempt to harm my second brother in a sly way. When he saw me return and walk to your tepee, he followed me in anger. It is not our way to quarrel among families or with our people or to go against the council’s vote, which was for her to stay with us unless the Great Spirit said otherwise. Two Feathers does not honor those ways, but he will not tell me or Cloud Chaser why he feels and acts as he does.”
“That is true, Father,” Cloud Chaser concurred. He related the many conflicts and harsh talks with his cousin following Caroline’s arrival. “Even she senses there is trouble in him and questioned me about it. She fears the manner in which he watches her. She has worked hard for me and my family, and she shows no hatred or disrespect toward us or our people.”
“That is true, Father,” War Eagle said. “She begged me not to bring her back to our camp, as she feared we would be
attacked for her rescue. She has many good feelings for Cloud Chaser, Dawn, Casmu, and others who have been friendly to her and she does not want them harmed or slain because of her presence among us.”
“And she helped you defeat Black Fist,” Wind Dancer noted.
“I will talk with Two Feathers,” Nahemana decided aloud, “for he will not speak falsely to a shaman, the Great Spirit’s sacred messenger. If he is bold and evil enough to try to deceive me, I will see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. This conflict must end before it causes trouble for our people. I will tend this task soon, after I pray for guidance.”
“That is good,” Rising Bear agreed with the shaman’s idea.
War Eagle motioned to items lying near him and said, “I give you the weapons and horse from our fallen enemy, my father. I will ask Mother to place the Crow’s hair lock on my war shirt.”
“I thank you for these gifts, my son. Your battle with Black Fist was brave and cunning; he will no longer raid us or slay our people or our allies.”
War Eagle asked his family, “Was it wrong to give the white girl his knife and sheath?”
“No,” Rising Bear replied, “for she earned them with her courage, help, and cunning. Perhaps she saved your life; perhaps that is why she was sent to us and why you were evoked to leave camp with her. Your skills are many, but if you had been alone and he sneaked up on you, you could be lost to us this sun. I thank the Great Spirit for your life and her help.”
Wind Dancer said, “It is good for Grandfather to settle the conflict between Cloud Chaser and Two Feathers, for danger rides toward us at a swift pace. While you were gone, my brother, a messenger from Red Cloud came to us with bad news. Agent Twiss, who took the place of Broken-Hand Fitzpatrick after he joined his Creator, has sent word to the bands of all Lakota tribes saying White War Chief Harney
will reach Fort Kearny in a few suns, then ride into our lands. Twiss warned all Lakotas who are good and want peace with the whites to move their camps to the other side of the Kampeskawakpa, the flowing waters they call Platte River. Those who do not move will be viewed as enemies, ‘hostiles,’ and will be attacked.”
The astonished War Eagle asked, “How can Agent Twiss and War Chief Harney command us to leave our land when the edges of our territory were chosen by the white leaders who made the Long Meadows Treaty four circles of the seasons past? Is this a trick to steal our lands? If all Lakotas move and surrender these grounds, even for the passing of one season or less, many whites and bluecoats will cover them as flood waters. It will be a long and bloody fight to push them out and regain them.”
Wind Dancer, Rising Bear, and Nahemana had been present at that “Big Council” near Fort Laramie in September 1851 where ally and enemy nations gathered in one enormous group to hear the army’s proposal for peace, to assess their strengths and weaknesses, and to see which friends and which foes voted to either accept or refuse their offer. None of the five men had forgotten that two of their fiercest enemies had not attended; nor had some of their allies; so the Laramie Treaty had not prevented all aggression upon other tribes, soldiers, settlers, or passing emigrants. Even some who had signed the agreement had not honored it.
Since the whites had demanded and selected one chief to represent and sign for all Lakotas—Brave Bear of the Brules, who was now dead, slain by Grattan in a foolish dispute over a strayed and slaughtered cow—Rising Bear had not put his mark to the paper and had not agreed to their terms, their ridiculous demands; nor had he or his band accepted any of the annuities given in exchange for a vow of peace with all other Indians and with all whites, compensations that were too often of inferior quality and lesser amounts than promised.
Yet, their own band had lived and hunted in their assigned territory and had fought only in defense or retaliation for evil deeds committed by enemies of either skin color. They had not leaned toward large and violent warfare until they were given no choice following Grattan’s “massacre” and the raids and slayings by certain Brules and a few small Oglala bands, for which all Lakotas were being blamed and punished, despite knowing the truth from Cloud Chaser’s glorious deeds last summer.
After those memories had galloped through each man’s mind, Wind Dancer answered for the others, “What you say is true, Wanbli, so we must soon battle them, for they are sure to challenge and attack us.”
Rising Bear added, “Our council talked and voted after we were given those words. As with our best allies, we will wait to learn what their war chief will do when we do not abandon our lands as ordered. We fight only if he attacks us. While we wait, we will prepare for defense and assault.”
War Eagle asked for clarity, “If the soldiers attack only those to blame for the deeds of the Brules and the few Oglalas who live among them, will we fight with them as allies or will we honor the old truce?”